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Three things he took from me; three things shall I keep from his child.
Never again will I know trust; never again will I love freely and generously:
never again for me a partner, a lover, an equal. He shall have no wife.
Never again will I be without fear; never again will I be sure: ever after
shall I be dishonored and defenseless, vulnerable and exposed. He shall ever
be unarmed.
Never again will I be myself; never again entire and intact: I am no one anymore,
for she that I was has been destroyed. He shall have no name.
The silver wheel turns and does not heal. For this may not be undone:
The sacred trust of kinship is violated; at the hands of my own brother I am
shown violence and rape. Against my will I conceived, against my will my belly
increased, against my will and in pain I bore twins, two boys, a dark one and
a light, and I am mother and aunt to them both. From the birthing-chamber the
dark child fled, passing away to the Sea—O blessed child how I envy you!
But I had not the strength nor the power to conceal the light child, and he was
taken from me and made no longer mine.
For these crimes against me I shall see no justice; I was taught well and brutally
that I have not the power. But I shall see vengeance. For a mother yet
has rights that a woman does not; and so upon his son I set a mother's curse,
for this is yet inviolate. As inheritance I leave him betrayal and sorrow, and
death he shall find where he expects love.
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